


The Tower

by little_shinra



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Magic, Developing Friendships, Emotional Manipulation, Falling In Love, Idiots in Love, Imprisonment, Isolation, M/M, Magical Artifacts, Magical Tattoos, Mythical Beings & Creatures, On Hiatus, Past Abuse, Strangers to Lovers, Supernatural Elements, Tags May Change, Team as Family, Time Skips, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-03-07 06:48:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13429140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_shinra/pseuds/little_shinra
Summary: A special treasure in the hands of a prominent artist has created the most magical of paintings, bringing in many visitors to his galleries. Rumors say it can create paths accessible in the painted canvas. The Phantom Thieves figure such a treasure would be immensely valuable to the heists and Joker seeks it in a tall tower in the outskirts of town.He didn't expect someone to be living in the tower.(Undergoing revision. Planned update: Early 2019)





	1. Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a collab piece I've made for the Shukita Big Bang event on Tumblr, along with my wonderful and ever patient artist, @nhibnguyen (their artwork can be found [here](http://nhibnguyen.tumblr.com/post/169916840688/)). This took so much more work and time than I had anticipated, even with the stress of the previous college semester warranting a month long hiatus from it. It just kept growing into the state it is now, more than double the minimum word count I assigned myself to. I could not bring myself to compress it to save time, as it went against my own standards as a writer. But I can finally give, at this time, a small introductory glimpse to the tale I've created.

In the edge of a large town, stood a solitary cabin, its paths paved with a smooth stone. Trees lined outside of the paved area, cutting the area off from the town with acres of forest. Farther away from the cabin, a tall stone tower stood proudly over the view below, the blanket of trees, the sun kissed buildings that glowed that light in the darkness from their windows. The shine of the thinning crescent moon gave the tower a more abandoned stature in the night in his visits. And it was a wandering thief’s prize. Or more specifically the vault containing it.

Many rumors were made of the famous artist Madarame, a man of skill that brought breath into his later paintings over the years, skills not seen with human eyes for as long. More rumors added flair and fiction, romanticizing the paintings being of another world and if one could, you could reach into that world.

The Phantom Thieves have made their visit and shed light on those stacked rumors. Indeed, they had been imbued with magic, but not of the magic themselves. All illusions were not free of hidden secrets. The artist was but a simple man, not one of their kind, proving that what they sought was an object. Something that allowed the art to be alive, to create pathways to the landscapes drawn. Such an object would be a very useful addition to their heists.

Which has brought Joker, the leader of the thieves, to a cabin connected to Madarame’s name. The cabin was already searched the night before. The object was not there.

Joker scaled the nearby trees for a better vantage point. As soon as he settled on a branch with enough camouflage, he began his watch. The evening red sun made its way into hiding behind the horizon as minutes went into an hour. Occasionally, he saw what he assumed to be the groundskeeper surveying the area, carrying a tray in one hand when he went back and forth between the two buildings. The sky turned violet to blue with scattering of stars. All seemed quiet and he’d grown bored. He shifted to climb his way back down when he saw light.

A faint glow moved around inside from the highest floor. Joker leaned up and squinted.

_The keeper was inside the tower? When did he get in?_

In the open, illuminated window, a shadow passed by, pausing from what it was doing to look out below it. Joker felt its eyes on him and cautiously pushed back into the thick leaves. The figure held itself there for what felt like minutes, then moved further inside, taking the light with it. Once it felt safe, Joker left his branch, landing with a roll on the ground. Looking back at the tower briefly, he began his journey deeper into the forest, seeking for a clearing so he can take flight back to the town. At the discovery of such a place, he hugged his arms around his body, relishing in the feeling of feather and bone, the extension of his self, freeing from the ink in his back into full fledged appendages of flight. With experience and ease, he took to the sky, looking down at the tower behind him and the town approaching.

In the air, Joker mused it’d be best to observe for a while longer before making the big break.

After all, staying undetected is the most important thing in any heist.

-

Few more nights passed and he kept his watch on that tree branch, evading detection, measuring out the schedule of the groundskeeper till he could be certain that once night took hold, he wouldn’t be coming back. Snickering to himself at the lack of night time security, Joker made his move.

Bracing himself and taking aim, Joker took a strong leap from the tree, the black wings flared out from his back, lifting him across the remaining distance until taking hold of the brick work; the wings gone as soon as they appeared. He scaled up the side, pressing himself against the stone as he waited for the groundskeeper to enter the cabin. The man closed the door, the light going out shortly thereafter. He climbed the tower and through the open window. Taking the room in surpassed Joker’s observations over the nights; this wasn’t simply a storage room, as he and the others took it to be, this was a residence.

Discarded paintings, blank canvases, and sketch sheets of varied sizes occupied majority of the space. A cloaked canvas easel stood among them, a stool before it with a cleaned palette and brushes on its seat. One wall was obscured by a large bed sheet, held in place by a couple hooks driven into the wooden beams. Opposite to the window, a closed door for what Joker assumed was for the stairs leading to the levels below.

Joker went to work, searching through the paintings, chests containing clothes and art supplies. A small set of stairs near the window led to a simple sleeping area, unoccupied, with a bath tucked in the corner under those stairs. Candles with signs of long use and books were scattered about.  
It was a quaint, compact space.

And nothing stood out to him. He could feel that the object should be here, but pinpointing it eluded him. However, he knew he wasn’t alone. Casually moving further in, toward the bath, he checked the small stove, holding his hand near it. It was still warm.

“I know you’re here,” he softly spoke. He stood up, adjusting his gloves. “There’s no use hiding.”

The floor creaked behind him. A swift swing came down at him and Joker ducked for the floor. A pointed metal tip dug into the wood.

“Ah-”

“Who are you?! What are you doing in here?! Get out!”

The wielder of a long rod pulled it out and took another swing. Regaining his bearings, Joker caught the rod mid-way, struggling and pulling against the other.

“Let go!"

Joker looked around the space and led the occupant toward the tub. The latter gave a hard yank and Joker released the rod. They stumbled back and fell into the empty porcelain. They grabbed the sides and hoisted back up. Joker made haste and tackled them back down, pining their arm behind their back.

“Who are you? There wasn’t supposed to be someone else here.”

“I live here! Unhand me-!”

Joker covered his mouth with his gloved hand. The first thing Joker noted was how young the person was; around his age if he had to guess. His long, damp hair stuck to him, wetting the fabric of his shirt. His arms were thin under Joker’s palm. The boy’s muffled protests continued, his slate grey eyes staring right through him.

Something stirred in Joker’s chest.

“Who are you?” He repeated.

The raven haired boy kicked, connecting with Joker’s side.

“Ow. Stop,” Joker ripped his hand away when teeth bit into his finger. “Geez! At least tell me your name first.”

“Get off of me!”

Joker leaned forward, closing the gap. “Honestly, I like our little arrangement. Much better than having to use my knife.”

The young man shut his mouth, the penetrating glare remaining. Joker loosened his grip on the other’s arm.

“So, can I have your name? I didn’t expect to find someone here and you seem harmless enough. Perhaps we can come to a peaceful truce.”

“…Yusuke.”

“Pleased to meet you,” he smiled. “I’m Joker.”

“Right…” His eyes widened. “Wait, you’re the one I’ve seen from my window the last few nights. Why were you spying like that?”

“To observe, assess whether something of interest to me was housed here. Finding you here instead was a surprise. Not a lot of people live in towers.”

“My teacher allows me to reside here, so I can focus on my studies. Now, can you get off me? This position is uncomfortable.”

Joker eased up, permitting enough room for him to untangle and sit upright against the tub’s walls. “I assume your teacher is the great artist, Madarame?”

Yusuke stilled. “How would you know that?”

Joker glanced around the room. “A good guess, based off what I see. He’s also the one I was looking into when I found this place.”

“…What exactly are you after?”

“That’s just it. I didn’t find what I’m looking for.”

“Then _leave_.”

Joker rested his chin in his hand. “And miss this lovely conversation with you?” He thought for a moment, “Say, Yusuke, let’s make a deal. You’ll keep quiet about this-”

Yusuke fumed. “I will not-!”

Joker silenced him.

“-and I’ll just ignore this place. Its _paintings_. Madarame’s _prized_ possessions. Everything will be left as they were. As I said, what I’m looking for, I did not find here, so wouldn’t that be better?”

Yusuke grumbled and dropped back against the tub. Joker leaned over him.

“Is that a deal?”

Yusuke kept his eyes to a spot on the wall. “……yes.”

“Well then.” Joker made to climb out, paused, then took Yusuke by the chin. He pressed their lips together, eliciting a startled noise from Yusuke’s throat. “I bid you adieu.”

-

Ann stood with her hands on her hips, a wrung out smile on her face as she eyed their ever esteemed leader enter their hideout.

“You seemed to have had fun, didn’t you?”

Joker played with the hair behind his ear, a smug grin barely contained.

“So, were you able to find it?”

“Not exactly. But I think I know a person who might lead us to it. I already laid out my wiles on him.”

“Right, your wiles. Your catastrophic means of flirting,” she sighed, fingers pressing her temple. “You don’t learn.”

Joker held his arms out in a gesture of admittance. “Trust me. I will find it.”

“Just admit it when you’re a lost cause for once in your life. Anyway, the rest have gone to sleep. You should rest too. We have day jobs, after all.”

Joker removed the mask from his face and ran a hand through his hair. “As you wish.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this little intro into this story. Due to the pressing deadline and how much the story had grown since conceived, I have to split it all into chapters so I can bring in something while I complete editing for the later events to arise in the story. The plan is to post the remainder of the chapters throughout the month of February.
> 
> (Anyone who has followed my twitter or know me personally know how much I've raved at the capricious nature that was the beginning of this tale. Had to change it so many times.)


	2. Obstacles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It takes time to warm up to someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I promised I would have the rest of the chapters up throughout February. As evident in this update, I did not hold up on that. I feel terrible for allowing this to happen, however, the reality of things is that life happens and I ended up getting burnt out by the story some days ago. I intend to post the rest of this story, but it's definitely gonna take longer (no thanks to the ever increasing word count) since I want to ensure that the chapters are polished and not rushed.

Yusuke watched the groundskeeper with an observant eye, antsy anticipation coursing through his fingers, as the man went back inside the cabin for the night. As soon as the light went through the door, Yusuke went for the covered wall in his room and pulled the sheet aside. The world it held was in more darkness than its true counterpart, even with the light Yusuke directed from outside and within his residence through man-made means. The sun in the afternoon would be far more ideal, but he wasn’t lucky to have the guarantee of not getting caught working on this in place of his other projects. The risk of being caught by sensei was always a worry most of all.

After setting up his space, he roamed back and forth from the window to the wall, taking in and comparing the details of the scenery, adding what was missing, changing what was inconsistent, attention solely on replicating what he could see in the distance. His long hair was braided down his back, bangs occasionally falling back over his face. Yusuke absentmindedly pushed them away, smearing paint across his cheek. It was fine by him. He’d gotten so used to finding stray paint somewhere on his person long after the fact. Adding in a couple more touches to the stone, he left it to dry while he cleaned out the brushes and palette, then readjusted the sheet over the wall, setting back the box stacks he posed against it. The moon had lowered to the horizon by this time, taking away its aiding light. The hearth was extinguished, and Yusuke made extra sure the embers were contained within the metal grate.

When he went over to the window the pull the shutters in for the night, something gave him pause. On the pane of the window, under the setting moonlight, was a small purple lilac flower. Yusuke touched it, then picked it up by the stem, turning it next to the candle he carried. The overall size of the little spruce was enough to fit in his palm, yet the surprise of this filled him with a feeling akin to a curious hope. It was something new and exhilarating for him to receive in its simplest way.

He pushed the shutter open, looking down into the trees below. There were no nearby tree branches with such flowers, no plants growing along the brickwork of the building. Giving the dark tree line a final scanning look, he closed the shutters, checking their lock, and retired to bed, leaving the flower on top of a book nearby. The candle in his hand was snuffed out, filling the room with a familiar darkness.

There was no feasible way it was there by accident. Yusuke huddled under the blankets as they warmed to his body heat, his eyes turning back toward where the book was. He slipped his arm out, gently patting around in the black till his fingertips touched the bundle of petals.

This was the first time, he thought, that someone gave me something like this.

Sure, he was not deprived of receiving things from his foster father or even the grounds keeper on certain occasions. It was the matter that it was from someone outside of his little world. And given the startling events of that night a while back, it was a pleasant turn from it.

 Yusuke closed his eyes, mind wandering for a deep sleep, his hand left on the book.

—

A few days had passed since then and Yusuke kept himself quiet.

About the midnight visitor. The flower left for him on the window some nights later. The flower had become dry and losing the energy it radiated in its color when it was first left for him. Yusuke slipped it between the book’s pages, stacking a heavier text on top of it to press it with the intention to preserve some of its fading beauty before the ailing perish could steal it all away from him.

Following his delivered meal, Yusuke went to the incomplete painting he hid under a cloth. Thankfully, in the madness of that night, it was left untouched. Unveiling it, the white of the canvas was mostly taken over by a calm scene of a residential area. Hastily scrawled pencil mapped out the foundation of the remaining buildings and the structures of the living subjects mid-activity. He turned the dial of an oil lamp, adding more direct light on the canvas as the sun went deeper to the horizon, dying it all red before fading it away.

Yusuke believed he could have peace now, moving past the unpleasant events via the painting. Then he heard a chuckle behind him.

“You’re still painting that?”

Yusuke turned around. On the windowsill, with the dimming sky backdropping him, Joker’s head rested on his arms and he gave a brief wave. Yusuke frowned instantly, remembering their skirmish.

“You said you’d ignore this place.”

“I never said I wouldn’t visit. My deal was I’d never steal anything from here. Having a chat wouldn’t qualify,” Yusuke ignored him and painted in silence. Joker climbed in, pulling a small stool over next to the other. Yusuke’s shoulders stiffened midway to finishing one of the incomplete buildings. He titled the end of the paint brush away from the canvas.

“I didn’t say you could come in.”

“You won’t notice I’m here. I can be as quiet as a mouse when the need arises,” Yusuke gave him a look. Joker pointed to the canvas. “Is it meant to be a portrait of the area?”

His eyes moved back to it. “It’s what it’s expected to be.”

“It’s beautiful.”

Yusuke gave a passing glance. “It still needs work. It’s still nowhere near the beauty it can possibly convey. Art is…specific that way.”

Joker hummed and took a fresh look around in the dim room, filling in what he missed when he last came through in his haste. He fell upon a stack of sketches on a table behind the canvas and stood up over them, sorting through with a lonely candle for better light.

“What are you doing?” Yusuke grabbed at his coat. “Don’t look at those!”

“You are very dedicated to your craft. That’s very admirable in and of itself,” he pulled one particular watercolor sketch of a flowering tree to view. “Even the sketch gives as much if not more emotion than the most complete and detailed of paintings.”

Yusuke set his brush aside and snatched the sketch from his hand, slipping it back into the book before pushing Joker away from the table.

“I don’t want people looking at those. They’re not meant to be seen.”

“My compliments still stand,” Joker stumbled back onto the stool, against Yusuke’s intentions.

“I don’t know what to make of you at all,” he went back to his seat in front of the drying canvas.

“I enjoy leaving people guessing. Tells me I’m doing an excellent job.”

He received no response, the painter focused back on the canvas, his body relaxed with determined energy in his brush strokes. Joker smiled to himself, reaching over for a book among the stacks surrounding them and settling down on the stool, candle stick brought over. On occasion, he stole glances at the other, watching his hand move across the white, filling in the blanks with the tip of the brush, pulling briefly away to add lost paint when the color faded. Between that and the text he worked through, the candle in Joker’s hand lost an inch of itself. The sky outside was filled with stars making their journey to the other side.

When Yusuke set his palette aside, he stretched his arms out, bending back to relieve the ache in his muscles. His hand collided with Joker’s head and he jumped to his feet.

“You’re still here?”

Joker rubbed his head. “You were occupied, so I entertained myself,” he held the book up, “You have good taste.”

Yusuke lifted the paint palette with the used brushes and went toward the sink near the tub, setting an oil lamp next to it. He turned the faucet on and ran water over his hand before bringing the brushes under. Color flowed into the drain as Yusuke kept silent. Joker noticed the empty dishes by the door, motioning to it.

“How are you brought food?”

“The keeper here preps them for me.”

“Ah yes, the one I’ve seen inspecting the area. He seems awfully concerned with the possibility of unwanted company.”

“Wouldn’t you be? Being a thief yourself, you know what value my teacher’s paintings are.”

Joker chuckled at the comment. “Very true. But, I have found little of value in the cabin. Wherever your teacher keeps his art, it’s not there.”

“I assume it’s on display at the exhibit for the time being.”

“So, you know about that?”

Setting the brushes on a towel to dry, Yusuke put the palette in the water, scrubbing at the paint. “When you’ve lived with someone long enough…you pick up things on your own.”

“Maybe one day you can give me the stories behind them there, at the gallery.”

He switched the water off. He walked over and twisted the caps onto the tubes.

“You’ll be better off on your own. I don’t have time to spare to be telling a thief what he already knows.”

“You wound me with that word. I prefer being a gentleman.”

Yusuke instinctively touched his lips, pulling his painted fingers away. “You should stop lying about why you’re here. You’re exhausting me with your persistence to dig for any dirt you wish to use against my teacher.”

Joker laced his fingers through his curls, giving them a light tug. “Do you truly want it to be all that is for our visits?”

“I don’t know what else I should take it as, given all that you’ve handed was your intrusion on my life.”

“I did give you that flower,” the painter glanced toward where the book holding it was. “Was that an intrusion too?”

Silence grew between them when Yusuke didn’t answer.

He thought it was lovely, entertaining in the thought that something was starting to reach out for him. Someone maybe noticing his waiting hand between the gilded, invisible bars of his devotion to his one pursuit in life that kept him anchored to this one place. Then it was the simple fact that the one that sent the flower was this person to visit him opened all sorts of emotions within him at the revelation.

In the end, “I don’t know,” was his reply.

—

After their last conversation ended on a stalemate, the mysterious man left, and Yusuke thought that was the end of it. More nights passed, and he played with the idea of leaving the shutters unlocked when he retired for sleep. Some of the nights, he did just that.

He decided it was best to let it go, he’d made his stance clear.

Then another gift was left on the window sill: a tiny bundle of yellow and seeded dandelions, surrounded with their pointed leaves and tied together with twine.

He closed his eyes, bestowing his wish on the seeds, then blew the seeds free from the stem, watching them descend with a silly dance to the bottom of the tower. He wanted to be among them.

Joker watched as the seeds fell from the window, as Yusuke rested his chin on folded arms over the window sill, staring at the freed white puffs. The artist buried his face, released a long sigh, then pushed himself away from view, closing the shutters for the night.

—

_In his dream, he saw an evasive fox. No matter how he chased it, the two couldn_ _’t manage to be on the same level. And it watched him try and try again, to no avail._

—

Joker watched the movement of Yusuke’s penciling as he outlined the paper. When Joker pulled himself inside the following evening, Yusuke simply gave acknowledgement of his presence, then returned to what he was doing. The air remained as stilted as when Joker left last time, as the two waited for the other to say what was on their mind, then saying nothing at all. Joker found himself fidgeting with his hair and sought out a book to read. He scanned their spines on the stacks of the lower level, smiling to himself at some of the variance from art techniques and histories to fictional adventures he himself hasn’t read in years. He wandered up the short steps to the upper level to peruse through those. On the bedside, a larger text weighed down on a smaller, aged yet very loved book.

Removing the heavy tome, Joker opened the book, finding the pressed flowers between the pages. The remaining dandelions that hadn’t seeded even had the twine tying them together. The sight of them pulled the edges of his mouth upwards and he replaced the books as he found them, returning to Yusuke’s side. The young man had finished his outline and now had the paper on top the floor, leaning over and adding brushing watercolors along the surface.

Then, he noticed it. Some of the lines blurred, moving as though dancing. Joker rubbed his eyes to rid of any foreign object and looked again. It looked normal, maybe a trick of the light from the lamp next to it. Intently, he sat on his knees and waited for the paint to move.

“Why do you have such a serious look on your face?”

“Huh?” Joker blinked. Yusuke’s brush rested in his hand away from the paper.

“I wanted to ask you something and saw you staring with this intense look in your eyes. Was there something…about the painting?”

Joker held his hands up. “Ah, n-no! I was just thinking of something.”

“May I ask what that was? I’m curious,” his voice was pointed. When he received no answer, he continued, “Why do you keep visiting?”

“Not for what you think.”

“I know that I do something when I complete my art. It almost breathes under my hand, like an animal. So, I want to know… What are your real intentions here?”

“It’s not to steal,” he emphasized. “There’s nothing here to steal for riches or fame.”

“I see.”

“As for the thought I had,” he pointed to an uncolored part of the paper, “why did you put a fox in your paintings?”

The question threw Yusuke off. “Wha…”

“I saw you putting one in the last painting. Is it a signature?”

“A signature? I… I guess that’s one way to put it. I’ve been putting these in without much thought for as long as I can remember. I’ve yet to gain the courage to put it in the forefront, though.”

“I think that’s cute.”

“Cute?”

“A hidden fox in your paintings, that would be your own personal identification. No one could mimic that. And it would give people something to look for. Like a hide and seek.”

“I see. That does makes sense,” he mumbled to himself. “If people could find it, would they find me?”

“What was that?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

He set the brush down.

“It’s getting late. I think this will be all for your visit today.”

Joker touched Yusuke’s arm. “Would you enjoy my company more often? Or would that be intruding?”

“I think…” He glanced at the hand. “That wouldn’t be bothersome. Though, next time…”

Yusuke reached over and pinched the end of Joker’s mask.

“Could you visit without this on? I find it hard to really take you in when you’re hiding your face from me.”

Joker breathed a laugh. “That’s quite a thing to ask a phantom thief to reveal his face.”

“You’re the one who said you have no intent to steal anything. Prove it.”

Joker pursed his lips to keep himself together. To keep from stealing another kiss from this man. The swirl of wonderful feelings and the resulting frustration over their existence being the effect of something so innocent drove him mad. It was the truth that he didn’t intend to steal anything, material. But what he truly wanted was this man. He’d be more than happy to steal him away. More than that, despite that, he wanted Yusuke to wish for it.

It became painful to leave.

“Then,” he stood and took a bow. “I bid you adieu.”

Yusuke waved him off as he dove out the window into the night. Sitting upright, he brought his hands together on his lap. “What is this feeling? Why am I so uneasy?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder whose dream that was... ;3  
> -  
> The theme of hidden foxes has been influenced by a specific painting in my childhood home. Literally called “Hide and Seek” by Bev Doolittle, the words themselves hide spotted horses when you look up close. It's actually a collection of 26 panels put together. I recommend looking it up. :)  
> -  
> Flower symbolism:  
> Purple lilac: first emotion of love  
> Dandelion: overcoming hardship (plus a popular flower for making wishes on)
> 
> (I am so weak for flower symbolism.)


	3. 2.5 A Young Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A memory of the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I ended up making (yet another) new chapter to the story. One that wasn't planned and just spawned from the depths and took me for a ride. I actually debated whether to go ahead and post it at this point of the plot. I wasn't certain of it, but decided to go ahead after tweaking it further. Now, what can we hope to see for these two?

_Behind him, he heard cautious steps heading from the room they kept the boy in to a door outside. Madarame set his brush down and pinched the bridge of his nose._

How many more punishments will that boy take before he learns?

_“Yusuke,” he called out to him. The small boy gasped. Footsteps moved to where the open sliding door was, his raven hair peeking in._

_“Yes?”_

_“Stay over here where I can see you.”_

_Yusuke hesitated to move, looking over to something away from the door._

_He replied, barely audible. “Yes, sir.”_

_He sat on the floor, opposite of the open door, at Madarame’s direction. Once he was certain the boy was going to stay put where he was, Madarame went back to his work. Silence stood between them for what seemed like hours, barely interrupted by the sounds of Madarame’s movements or Yusuke’s shifting to relieve the weight off his legs or the waves of intensity the rain gave outside._

_As time passed, Yusuke leaned little by little to see what was on the canvas that so took in Madarame’s attention. It was the portrait of a person in a winter kimono, their back to the viewer. Flowered branches drooped over them, framing their umbrella with fallen petals._

_Yusuke stood from the seat, legs sore and wobbly from sitting so long, and wandered closer to it, eyes wide as he took it in. It was so beautiful, just like the ones his mother made. His wrist was grabbed when he reached for it, the stern look of Madarame bearing down at him. Yusuke shrank back._

_“I’m sorry.”_

_The older man released him. “Don’t touch it before it dries. Otherwise it’ll be ruined.”_

_Yusuke held his arms to his chest and backed toward to where he sat. He didn’t move from the spot the rest of their time there._

_When Madarame stood to ease his joints, a rowdy roll of laughter in the street took Yusuke’s attention. The rain had become a light drizzle outside. A group of children close to his age huddled under a large umbrella, balancing its weight precariously while they walked the downhill path._

_Yusuke, resigned to the indoors, watched the children roam around the street, chatting excitedly among themselves._

_Madarame rested his hand on his shoulder._

_“Just remember, Yusuke. This is for your own good. You don’t have anyone else in the world.”_

_The boy glanced away from the children. “Yes, sir.”_

_\---_

_\--_

_-_

_Yusuke woke to the darkness of his room, his sniffling filling the walls. He tightened and relaxed his hands into fists, pressuring his fingers against the bunches of fabric to calm himself. He wiped the tears in his eyes with his sleeve, glancing around in hopes of seeing his mother. It was only him in the room. He rolled onto his side, pulling his pillow into his arms, huddling against it for comfort._

_“Mommy,” he let out._

_The door shifted and slid open behind him. “Yusuke.”_

_Yusuke buried his face into the pillow, holding his breath to silence his crying. Footsteps came closer to him and he remained stiff as a board when they stopped. As he took in a sharp gasp when his lungs couldn’t hold it for much longer, the voice behind him sighed, “All right, all right. Come here.”_

_Hands scooped under him, lifting his small body off the bed onto another’s lap. Yusuke was removed of the pillow, so he curled into Madarame’s chest, clinging to him. He received awkward pats on his head._

_“Such a handful,” the older man mumbled to himself while he waited for the boy to settle. He patted his back when Yusuke became quiet, still firm in his hold on the man’s robe._

_“Let’s go. I’ll show you something.”_

_And he was lifted into Madarame’s arms and carried out the room. The hallway was illuminated with a small light. Yusuke rested his head on Madarame’s shoulder, watching as things receded behind them; the sealed room he slept in, the length of the hall being eaten by the late moonless darkness as they went up the stairs. He closed his eyes, the walk lulling him back to sleep._

_He was shaken. “Hey, don’t doze off.”_

_Yusuke rubbed his eyes. The two were inside a room he didn’t fully recognize. Shapes of squares and rectangles leaned against the walls, their surfaces just blobs of markings made in the shadows. He was brought down to his feet and turned around to one particular painting. The light in Madarame’s hand focused its small surface. A woman was looking back at them, holding the incomplete shape of a child in the view._

_“It is the two of you,” Madarame said. Yusuke crawled onto the stool in front of it, leveling his height with the canvas stand._

_He reached over, then stopped himself, remembering the past scolding, and backed away from it. Madarame patted his back._

_“It’s fine now. It’s dry.”_

_Yusuke ran his fingers over it, feeling the texture of the lines, the painted skin, the shape of his absent mother. He could almost feel her nearby, through this small canvas. But, palms pressed over, he couldn’t get through. She was out of reach. Madarame’s hand on his shoulder pulled him out of his moment._

_“Consider this your means of visiting once I’m done.”_

_He stared at the painting longer and the more those words repeated in him, the greater the truth was to his mother’s absence since his coming to this house. This would be all would remain for him to go to. Tears spilled down his cheeks anew and he covered his face with his hands._

_“Come on, enough crying,” Madarame told him, with slight exasperation. He removed his hand. “You are under my supervision, so I will be expecting much from you, Yusuke. Do as you are told, and things will be easier for you.”_

_Yusuke nodded, pressing the heels of his hands in his eyes. “Yes, sir.”_

_Madarame rubbed his back, leading the boy off the stool. “Let’s get back to bed.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 4/20 Edit: Present day event that followed the past sequence was removed because I grew to hate its current place in the story and it felt way too soon to exist in the story.


End file.
